


Keeping me up All Night

by AlphaPockets



Series: Misadventures of the Mighty Nein [5]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Best Friends, Fjord & Mollymauk Tealeaf - Freeform, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Gen, Other, Phone Conversations, Road Trip, Shooting the Shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-13 22:22:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16027172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlphaPockets/pseuds/AlphaPockets
Summary: Fjord is his best friend. Through thick and thin, he would always be there for the guy. And when he can't be there physically, he will be there in spirit. Or over the phone for the ten-hour drive to Kansas a bit sooner than planned.~~~Molly's side toHere's To Us- Chapter 15





	Keeping me up All Night

**11:21 a.m.**

_“I believe in miracles_  
_Where you from?_  
_You sexy thing_  
_I believe in miracles_  
_Since you came along_.  
_You sexy thing”_

Molly groaned and rolled to his side. His phone was brightly lit with a picture of Isaiah Mustafa from an Old Spice commercial as the contact photo. His alarm clock that miraculously survived all of high school read almost 11:30. Without him to drag Fjord out and make him be a normal human, Molly figured his platonic life partner would be sound asleep, drooling on his pillow. As Hot Chocolate’s sweet tunes suggested, that was not the case.

“ _I believe in miracles_  
_Where you from?_  
_You sexy-”_

Molly grabbed the phone, almost falling off the bed, and answered.

“This better be an unreasonably sexy man calling or I am hanging up.”

And, thus, started the night. When Fjord replied, Molly began to take everything in. The echo meant speakerphone. The groaning was the engine of his truck that had seen better days. Fjord’s voice was measured and strained from use earlier in the day. He was encouraging the comments. That meant he wanted the laugh. Something was wrong.

“….” He could hear the eyeroll over the phone. “Fine. Where the fuck are you driving at ten at night?”

“Know we hoped that my family’s good will toward others would include my fascination with phallic objects?”

“Vaguely, I was stoned.”

“I hate you.”

Molly got the whole situation from that small exchange. Fjord had come out to his aunt and uncle. He had hoped, as the good but foolhardy would, that it would go well. He knew that the family had been decent to Fjord. The man was convinced it was kindness, but it was laced with duty. Saying that is what family does for others did not translate to that is what this specific person wanted to do. And his family had reacted as Molly would have expected if he were in that situation. They did not like it and would not accept it. Annoyance twisted in his gut as he thought about it. Fuck. Well.

Molly got up and went to his desk for one of the Red Bulls he bought earlier in the day and cracked it open while keeping the conversation light. No way he’d sleep either way, now. Might as well be in it for the long haul. He was glad Fjord knew when he had said ‘Call whenever,’ that Molly had meant it in earnest. And he may be exhausted, but Molly was glad to be there. Not just to keep Fjord from wrecking on the side of the road, but to be the shoulder he needed. Because eventually on this trip, he would finally break down and say how he felt. Until then? It was the waiting game.

**1:53**

“Really. Of all the things in the world to get stabbed violently into your skin, you’d get a murder squid.”

“A Kraken, Mr. I-Have-A-Carebear-Tattoo.”

“Don’t hate on Funshine, you ungrateful fuck,” Molly snapped. His hand absently brushed against the tattoo he got for his little cousin at 18 when she survived Leukemia. “I’m just saying you could admit to liking tentacle porn and skip the tattooing it part.”

“It’s an awesome mythological creature,” Fjord countered with a hint of annoyance that made Molly snort.

“Didn’t one kill your Cleric.”

“My Paladin, but yes.”

“Is there a difference? They’re both Jesus Kids with magic powers,” Molly replied with a chipper tone.

His face was positively lit up as he sat in his parent’s basement. Fjord hotly argued the difference between the two classes and all the ways they were not the same as Molly simply pushed the recliner out on the sofa. He loved the basement for a number of reasons. It was a game room and also where the family watched sports when everyone was home. It also was the best place to talk in the middle of the night, so his parents didn’t wake up.

“You’re a fucking nerd, Fjord. I’m gonna beat the shit out of you and take your lunch money.”

“I’d love to see you try, Chicken Legs.”

Molly chuckled warmly into his water bottle.

**3:02 a.m.**

“Nothing.”

“Not a thing”

“At all.”

“Nope.”

“Huh,” Molly huffed out. “How.”

“I’m a masochist,” Fjord groaned.

Molly laughed.

“I mean, you want to, right?”

“Fuck, yes, of course I do. You may not be into him, but I sure as fuck am.”

“Hey, hey. I’d tap that if you had not marked your territory already. But like… you know he does?”

“Yeah. He’s uh…” Fjord coughed and did not continue. Molly’s face lit up again with glee.

“Has he sent you naughty pictures, that minx.”

“Fuck off Molly.”

“But seriously, have you two talked about it?”

“Sort of? It just never seems to work out.”

“Why not?”

“Well, Molly. Most of the time you’re either crowing off-key to whatever is the newest Selena Gomez or Ariana Grande track is out when we’re staying at my place. And his, we’re too tired or have been drinking.”

“So, all I got out of this is I should sing Marvin Gaye.”

“Please don’t.”

**4:59 a.m.**

“What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever eaten?”

“Uh, we eat all kinds of shit. Cow stomach. Chicken feet. I had frog legs and alligator in Louisiana. Uh, rattlesnake once.”

“See, I don’t get why people freak out over what’s in their food. If it tasted good before you ate it, what’s it matter if it’s bull dick or something.”

“Really, anything can be made better with the right spices and some lemon or lime.”

“Nah, you guys put spice and lime juice on melons. That’s weird.”

“What, melon popsicles?”

“It’s not frozen. Stop calling it a popsicle. It’s a fucking chunk of slightly colder than room-temperature fruit.”

“It’s cold.”

“You’re broken.”

“Hey, don’t hate on—OH WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT SHIT?! OH, HELL NAW.”

**6:52 a.m.**

Molly stepped outside after grabbing the coffee from the pot his mom made before heading off to work. She had said hello to Fjord and made Molly promise to text her when Fjord arrived safe. She also relieved him and took over phone duty long enough for Molly to run and piss. But now he had the phone back and the blanket his gran knit for him when he was 8 wrapped around his body. He had a zip-up on over a pull-over sweatshirt, a knit hat on his head and flannel sleep pants tucked into his unlaced combat boots on. Through the impossibly gray and toneless cityscape of residential South Boston, bits of orange and pink peaked through the clouds, tenement houses and bare trees. He squinted against the light reflecting off the dirty snow and the streetlights flickered off.

“We just watched the sun rise together,” Molly told him over his coffee. “Isn’t that romantic?”

**9:15 a.m.**

Molly was not sure why he was blushing, but he was at least glad he got the conversation to stray from his new… whatever they were. His recent hot dicking.

“You’ve seriously never been ice skating,” Molly asked.

“No, Molly. I have never been. How is that a shock? I live in Texas.”

“Hey, the Stars are a good team. It’s just, that’s what we do here. We mall crawl or go ice skating on the weekend. Only cool kids with dates go to the movies.”

“Don’t you guys like… go out and play sports?”

“Not around here, man. Probably get hit by a car playing street ball with the way people whip around here now. Used to play soccer, though.”

“In the street.”

“Yeah, just kick it against the chain-link fences as the goal.”

“That had to piss people off.”

“Eh, the skateboarding was worse. We got banned from doing it. Not that we actually stopped.”

“I never broke the rules like that.”

“Well paint me shocked, there, Boy Scout.”

“Just didn’t seem worth it. If I acted up and got caught, my ass got beat and disciplined. If I behaved and kept my head down, I could do the shit I wanted to.”

“You are probably the first good guy to not finish last.”

“How’s that.”

“You got a scholarship for swimming. It’s literally your job to be first.”

“… Fuck off, Molly.”

**12:05 p.m.**

“Hey, hey! Give my phone back, Bo!” Molly jumped on his older brother’s back as Bo laughed and kept talking to Fjord and Gus pulled him off. “He thinks you guys suck.”

“Fjord says stop bitching, Molly, you can get him back in a minute,” Bo laughed as he went back to talking football with Fjord.

Molly grumbled while being held down by his other brother. Both men were heavier set than Molly, but a bit shorter. Bo had lighter hair like their mother and Gus had his sandier brown color. All three were freckled and now that he did not have his red contacts in, Molly’s bright brown eyes were glaring at the back of his brother’s head.

“Here you go, you baby. He really get booted,” Bo asked, and he handed the phone back.

“Yeah, he did. Mom already invited him up for the summer,” molly replied and put the phone to his ear.

“Hopefully he has that hot redhead to shack up with instead,” Gus yelled loud enough for Fjord to hear as his brothers left for the backyard where his dad was decorating for Christmas.

“It’s never a comfort knowing they are as bad as you are,” Fjord chuckled. “Really, it’s your fault for giving the phone to Mona when you had to piss.”

“Yeah, where did she run off to?”

“You are in the same house as she s, why are you asking me? Shouldn’t you know where your sister is?” Fjord nagged. “And she went to the corner store for more milk.”

“See. I don’t need to know, myself. I have you for that. Because you are an excellent husband.”

“Fuck that, you’re not the wife out of us. You can’t cook worth a damn and you never clean. You are literally the worst 50’s housewife possible. I’d never leave you home alone to raise the kids.”

“I’d be a terrible husband. Can you picture me having the desk 9-5 job? I’d be fired in a week.”

“If you’re lucky.”

“And then where does that leave you and the kids?”

“Starving. You really need to provide for us.”

“See, and this is why I always end up in the mafia or the traveling circus.”

“No, Molly. You end up in the circus because you’re a flaming sword-swallower.”

“Want me to give you pointers?”

“Shut the fuck up, Molly.”

**12:50 p.m.**

“He made it home, ma.”

“Good. He’s there all break, right?” His mom sounded distracted, but she was a lawyer. Doing adult things.

“Yeah, he’s with Caleb and his family.”

“Caleb… Caleb. Yasha’s roommate? Are they dating?”

“For a while, mom. Get up on the times. That’s old news. The new-news is I am trying to get him to be a stripper.”

“Very self-serving of you, Molly. Remind dad to take out the steaks because I knew he does not remember.” His mom sounded amused, he could hear the smile in her voice.

“I will. Don’t forget. We have TSO tomorrow night,” Molly replied.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Molly. I’ve got a client coming in soon, so I’ve got to go. Tell Fjord I meant what I said.”

“Yeah, yeah. Love you, ma.”

Molly stripped out of his sweatshirts that were now too warm. His family gave up on the holding out on turning up the heat when the temp hit 40. That excluded the basement, which was kept warm for the dogs and the cat. But the rest of the house was finally a happy 65. His shirt and sleep pants were soon dropped into a pile over the sweatshirts and he crawled into bed, enjoying the soft flannel on his skin. He was exhausted, but happy he was able to keep his best friend company. Fjord was now safe with Caleb. The redhead promised to keep him updated if Fjord stops being open about what’s going on. The phone tree had been alerted, or the people who mattered knew. He scooted deeper into his blankets and waited for the sweet, sweet embrace of sleep to come.

But after a few minutes, he realized the last Red Bull was a mistake. Groaning, Molly half-crawled off the bed to fetch his phone the pocket of his hoodie. He looked for that sexy Isaiah Mustafa photo and pressed call.

“Yes, Molly,” Fjord mumbled distantly. And with an echo. Oh, speakerphone?

“Tell me a bedtime story, Daddy,” Molly purred with a tired grin pulling at his lip.

“Godammit, Molly.”

**Author's Note:**

> You know I couldn't resist writing more of them.


End file.
